


Quiet For Too Long

by Thunderous



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: First Kiss, Hugs, It's just a hand massage don't worry, M/M, MFE team is the best team, Massage, They go out in the desert, change my mind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-26 23:36:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15673566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thunderous/pseuds/Thunderous
Summary: “We’re going to win. Besides, we’ve got a nice team leader,” Kinkade says teasingly, part joke and part truth.“Yes, we will. I’ve heard our sniper is magnificent, anyway,” James retorts and laughs, unrestrained. It’s been so long since he had the chance to relax that it feels foreign.Kinkade grabs his cheeks and kisses him again.





	Quiet For Too Long

**Author's Note:**

> haha someone help i ship these two already and they barely had screen time together.
> 
> well, after vld s7, i needed a way to relax. here it is. i've had a nice time writing it.

It’s late evening when the dinner announcement catches James Griffin in the simulator. He’s drenched in sweat, tired and frustrated, but the score on the screen matches his efforts - it’s a new record, built and broken by himself.

He hasn’t been a prodigy from the beginning (humans are prone to mistakes), but ever since the Garrison’s best pilot disappeared after the Kerberos mission and other four cadets went with him, Iverson had no other option.

Sometimes, he likes to think his team isn’t just _another_ way to defend themselves, but he knows better. Two knocks on the door panel startle him and he turns around in the pilot seat quickly.

“Kinkade,” he says, taken aback by the sight of his teammate staring at him with a blank expression. “Is something wrong?” He knows, if there is anything happening, he’d be the first one announced.

It’s just the way his friends respect him as a leader and it brings James a wild satisfaction every time.

“You’ll miss dinner again,” Kinkade breaks the silence in a low voice, glancing at the overused controls and then the score flashing in the background and coating them in orange light. “I think you’ve done enough for today. Pushing your limits is good, though not all the time.”

If it were any other person, James would’ve misunderstood the affirmation as a quarrel. Coming from Kinkade, it’s honesty in its pure form. Seeing him so concerned (all of them, really - Rizavi has that crack in her hopeful smile, Leif has a fear in her eyes that they all share in their hearts) makes James’ eyes narrow in suspicion. Kinkade is always the quiet one, keeping to himself the burdens they all carry and rarely letting James see them.

“I’ll come. You’re right. The simulator’s going to be in the same place when I get back,” James finally decides and leaves the pilot chair with stiff legs. His fingers feel numb from gripping the controls too hard and he sighs, walking a few steps ahead of Kinkade.

“Is something wrong with your hands?” Kinkade asks, hearing James’ breathing and seeing him clench his fingers into fists and unclench them repeatedly.

“I might have overused them,” he responds and shrugs, trying to not let the silence in the hall put pressure on him. They’re still away from the cafeteria. When he lowers his eyes, he misses the look of doubt crossing two green irises.

“What if it’s your wrist?” Kinkade suddenly asks and strides closer to James. “I used to put a strain on both my wrists often because of maneuvering controls.” He uses his right hand to hold James’ left one in a fragile touch.

Kinkade’s fingers are unexpectedly warm and James scolds himself for ever thinking otherwise (does it matter, in the end?) and he makes a wry face. “Do you feel pain?” 

And James was prepared to shake his head, before Kinkade went to his left side (another step and he’d be behind), got a hold of his arm and kept it right, with the palm facing the ground.

“What are you-” 

“Pain relief. My father taught me how to get rid of wrist aches easily. Hold it in the air a little longer,” Kinkade interrupts James mid-sentence and, without a warning, he gently presses down on the hand until he begins feeling a stretch in both wrist and arm. “Does it hurt?”

James’ mouth is made of cotton for a few seconds before he gets his body to give a short shrug. 

“It doesn’t particularly hurt, it’s like a sting,” he explains and Kinkade nods. 

They hold the position for ten seconds (James counted them each) and then Kinkade tells him to try the same with his other hand. 

To his utter disbelief, when they make it to the cafeteria, the ache’s a distant rumbling in his body and he feels more at peace than before. Rizavi is waving at them from their usual spot, Leif has her eyes fixed on the food in front of her as if it’s a war in between the two and Veronica is paying attention to her tablet.

“Coming to take you to dinner was not the only reason I came for you,” Kinkade says so quietly that James barely hears him over the laughter, small talks and clinking surrounding them. A brief glance at him assures James the words were, indeed, spoken.

“Is there anything else?” He’s picking up a tray for some food even though his appetite is set almost as low as his energy. Nothing looks or smells good.

“Tomorrow, I’m headed to town,” the other boy says. “My father’s train arrives in the morning and he’s going to see me before he leaves again.”

James nods in understanding and hears his stomach growl in the space between them. He’s sure his cheeks color in red without him being able to control them. He’s mesmerized by the fact that Kinkade can be so set on something that he doesn’t even blink.

“I want you to come with me.”

James freezes in place. Time seems to freeze alongside him too and he distantly hears someone telling him to move. He does, but his mind’s reeling. Ever since their collaboration as a team, the MFE team, James has aided Rizavi and Leif countless of times and received it from them. But Kinkade… He’s never once had a problem that needed him.

It seems too surreal now that it finally happens. As a temporary, not-necessarily-named leader, James agrees before he registers his words.

“Of course. When do we leave?” He truly hopes his voice is steady and that Kinkade can’t see the way the acceleration of his pulse makes him feel dizzy. 

“In the morning, after eating breakfast.” Kinkade takes a strawberry milk in a quick motion and places it on James’ tray, all too aware that it’s his favorite drink after training.

“In the morning it is, then.”

It feels like a promise.

*

At first, several hours before, it seemed a wonderful idea. Every leader revels in the chance of getting to know his team and James thinks that finally, the mysterious (always so reluctant to participate in a conversation) Kinkade is going to offer him an exclusive opportunity. 

He’s wrong. When he sees Kinkade in his own car, in the driver seat, coming to pick him up at the main entrance, he realizes it’s the first time in two years he’s going to do something Iverson doesn’t know about first.

“Do you have second thoughts? I can go alone, if that’s the case-” 

It’s his turn to cut Kinkade’s sentence midway by smirking leisurely and hopping into the passenger seat. “No second thoughts. I just thought I’d get to drive.” 

They aren’t wearing the Garrison uniform and it feels comforting in a strange way. Although the heat’s strong during the day, it’s much colder inside the vehicle. Plus, getting to see Kinkade drive is an adventure in itself. He makes no move to avoid steep areas and looks relaxed.

“It’d be better for your hands to rest. But you can drive on the way back if you want.”

James tears his eyes away from the long roads of desert ahead and eyes Kinkade with curiosity. He’s so skilled and patient it makes his head spin. James would’ve loved to possess such a character strength.

“It’s all right this way. I don’t mind.” And he doesn’t. It’s the truth, because they four deserve nothing but sincerity from him. “I didn’t know you were still talking to your father,” he then murmurs in the space between the two of them because he’s been aware of the relationship Kinkade had with him.

It’s one of the few things his teammate was willing to tell him.

“He insisted,” Kinkade says and diverts his gaze from the road for few seconds to fix it on James. He feels prickles on his skin under the intensity. “How are your wrists?”

“Much better, thanks to you,” he says and chuckles. Then, in a fleeting thought, he wonders how could someone wear black clothes in such an excruciating heat. The inside of the vehicle is cold, but under the merciless sun, the black jeans and shirt Kinkade chose will make him a human radiator.

“Do you… do you believe the Galra are coming for us?” The question is so sudden, it leaves James speechless. He’s always thought, ever since they found out about the Galra, that they’d surely come (tomorrow, two days later, next week). He’d never once stayed and thought ‘what if they don’t?’

“Yes. I think it’s getting closer and closer. I kind of feel it in all our teachers, you know. Commander Holt’s dying to get the ATLAS ready for launch. They’re all frantic and our new ships… They are so, so much different from what we’ve piloted before.” James is now staring out the blue window, at the sky and the road and hoping that it’ll not be the last time he gets to see them. “You?” He feels the need to ask, because Kinkade’s opinion matters, too.

“I _know_ they will. I just liked to think they wouldn’t.”

It sounds so much like him it’s endearing. Building a safe place around you, like a shield, and hoping that when it comes crashing down, you’ll be protected. 

“You know, I’ll want some ice cream for all the desert-walking experience. Plus, being out of Garrison grounds is the best occasion for chocolate.” His smile is wide and voice confident. He’s aware that he needs to do something to keep things as normal as ever. Because if Kinkade wants to build a bubble around him, James wants to be part of it too.

*

People are bustling around them, hurrying to catch the next bus or train. Others meet their relatives and smile, laugh. There are two Garrison cadets standing shoulder to shoulder and looking around in the crowd. James’ thin blue shirt is not the evidence of it, but his confident stare, sure pose say this to everyone who’s willing to look closely. 

“You can sit if you want,” Kinkade says and watches James from the corner of his eyes. He must feel guilty for making him wait for so long, since it’s already been an hour with no sign.

“I’m doing fine,” he insists and fiddles with the bottle of water in his hands. Kinkade’s face is the same, but his eyes look more tired, defeated. Maybe he’s realized something James did. “I don’t think he’ll show up.” He says it, because it’s what he feels. Kinkade understands his reasons.

“Me neither,” the boy admits and sighs. “I should’ve known that it was another lie.”

James truly wants to hug him, to place his arms around those wide shoulders and offer support. He wants to say the situation with his parents is not much better. They’d barely been around to see him grow. 

So he does it. With certainty, he throws his arms around Kinkade and whispers, “All my parents wanted me to do was to be the best, no matter how. They weren’t around often. The Garrison became my home. And I’m lucky to have you all.”

Kinkade is silent, rigid. James feels like he’s made a mistake somewhere.

“I’m not saying your father doesn’t love you. What I mean is, we’re here. Your team. We’re with you in every step.” He closes his eyes and is about to retreat his hands when Kinkade’s big arms surround him, trapping his body in heat and affection. His breath fans James’ neck and makes him shiver.

“You’re right, Griffin. You’re always right,” he mumbles and James barely understands him because his mouth is literally buried in his neck, lips hovering over heated skin.

“I’m trying,” he says and laughs. “Are we leaving?” 

He wants to depart, but Kinkade holds his wrist gently and shakes his head. Not yet, it seems.

“I’m sure they’ll come,” Kinkade says and he doesn’t need to ask to realize ‘they’ means Galra. “And after we win, when we’ll be less stressed and both alive, I’ll do it properly.” 

James’ blue eyes narrow, confusion written all over his features. Do what properly? He parts his lips to ask, but Kinkade lowers his head and presses his lips on the left corner of his mouth. They’re hot, wet and gentle. James melts. His thumb traces James’ jaw and cheek slowly, memorizing. 

“I want you to kiss me now,” he admits and cups Kinkade’s gorgeous face in his hands. His cheeks are smooth, well-defined. An abyss of green bores into his eyes and he’s lost. 

Suddenly, their roles are reversed. James is not so sure they’ll all make it back. It’s a war. Death is more dangerous than it might seem and he longs to be selfish just this once.

“I don’t care what happens after the fight. With the weapons we have, we might lose. I want to have this, to have you, in case we never make it back.” He swallows the lump in his throat and ignores the need to cry. Tears are stinging his eyes from his utter effort to not let them spill.

Kinkade’s mesmerizing eyes widen and he smiles quietly, a little shyly, before tilting his chin and kissing him properly. James has been kissed before and it’s a memory he wants to forget. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t as pleasant as he hoped it would be.

This kiss - this fierce battle of lips and ragged breaths - is another story. It’s honest, above all, and James has been waiting for it, dreaming of it, for a while. Now that it’s happening, he doesn’t think anything can taste so good. 

They part and, hearts racing and fingers fumbling, they touch their hands and smile. James has a bright curve of lips, wide and full of joy. Kinkade’s smaller, albeit more hidden, but it’s nonetheless present.

“We’re going to win. Besides, we’ve got a nice team leader,” Kinkade says teasingly, part joke and part truth.

“Yes, we will. I’ve heard our sniper is magnificent, anyway,” James retorts and laughs, unrestrained. It’s been so long since he had the chance to relax that it feels foreign.

Kinkade grabs his cheeks and kisses him again.

James knows for sure that they’ll win. Not because he’s the leader, but because together with Kinkade - with Leif and Rizavi and Veronica - he feels invincible.


End file.
